


Original Vore Drabbles

by Random-Vore-Enthusiast (Amazionion)



Series: Abandoned Projects [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fatal Vore, Gen, Non fatal vore, Oral Vore, Other, Protective vore, Soft Vore, Vore, more tags to come posibly, rating and warnings will very, safe vore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21812284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amazionion/pseuds/Random-Vore-Enthusiast
Summary: Just my OCs running around and nomming each other.Warnings will be in every chapter.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Series: Abandoned Projects [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1825993
Kudos: 26





	1. Grommock and Fruke (Part 1)

Contains: Soft and safe vore, oral vore, unwilling (at first) prey, male pred, nonbinary prey, very brief description of unbloody violence.

—

Grommock had been hired to go kill a dragon that had been rampaging in the countryside. And so he had had set off at once. He knows how dangerous these things can be if alone.

A dragon is never forced from a pack without good reason. Causing a danger to the younglings or something else justifiable by dragons. If it was separated on accident, it is lost and it is scared and it will lash out at anything.

The creature cowering in his shadow seemed to be the case of the latter, since it was just a child.

“S-stay back! I-I-I’m war-warning you!” They shook even as they tried to puff up. “I - I have venom!”

Grommock sunk to his knees, sheathing his sword and holding his hands in a placating position. “It’s alright, little one, I won’t hurt you.”

“Lies, you’ve been hired to k-kill me!” Their eyes were full of terror, and it twisted Grommock’s heart.

“Yes, I have been.” He moved to a sitting position. “But I also have a code. I do not harm the innocent. And you are not the culprit of wrecking the farm. You’re too young to have developed your venom sacs, so you could not have set that fire, and much too small to have eaten two pigs.”

They swallowed nervously. “What are you going to do to me?”

Grommock heaved a sigh. “I can’t leave you here. You’re too young and vulnerable to be on your own. A determined dog could mortally wound you, and the villagers seemed determined to have you killed.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“No.” He blinked softly. “You’re not going to be hurt by my hand. I’m going to hide you until I can relocate you somewhere safer.”

They looked away, nervously scratching the dirt before nodding. “I could just go hide deeper in the woods until they’ve forgotten about me.”

Grommock shook his head. “If I do not present evidence of your demise, they will hire another knight to kill you. Other knights are much more eager to make an easy kill for a payday.”

“But you aren’t?” They took a cautious step back.  
“No.” He touched the earring he wore to symbolize his orc heritage, if his enormous size, point to his ears, and the tusk-like teeth weren’t enough. “My mother is an orc, my father a human. I know how people deal in absolutes, and are afraid of the unknown. I am one of few who try to see every side. I am your best bet for survival.”

They glanced around and then up at him. “Very well. But I am not leaving my hoard.” And they ran into a nearby bush.

“Hoard?” He raised an eyebrow. He had been under the impression that only grown dragons hoarded. Guess he didn’t know everything.

After a minute they came out of the bush, holding a tiny bag in their mouth. “It’s mine. I found all of it fair and square, so you can’t take any of it.”

Grommock nodded and then picked them and their hoard up in one hand. There was a clinking noise.

“Coins?”

“And rocks and other things I’ve found in the dirt of the marketplace.” They huffed. “I have a few buttons.”

Grommock nodded along as he tore the cork out of a potion and drank it in one draught. After stowing the bottle, he carefully took the hoard in one hand, dragon in the other. “Now, just stay calm, I’m not going to hurt you.”

—

Fruke glanced up and their heart leaped into their throat. The knight was lifting them up to his open mouth.

“No!” They squirmed to try and get away, but their back feet were stuffed inside of the open mouth.

They squirmed and tried to flair their wings to scramble out, but after a second they were drawn inside. “Please don’t eat me!”

Probably the only time a dragon would plead a knight to not eat it.

They were pulled down by a few strong gulps and packed into his stomach. They filled the space up with a little wiggle room and desperately wished they were bigger so they could have sharper claws and fire to protect themselves.

“Let me out! Please!” They squirmed desperately.

“It’s alright.” The knight’s voice rumbled around them. “You’re safe in there.”

Fruke fell still. They gently prodded at the walls around them in the pitch dark. It was squishy and soft to the touch, damp too, but there was no pool of digestive fluids trying to dissolve them, and the knight didn’t seem to be trying to hurt them.

“I’m not… I’m not gonna get digested?”

“No. You need to lay low inside of there. You’ll be perfectly safe inside of me so long as you don’t speak when I’m around others.”

“O-okay.” They settled down, gently kneading the warm, damp ground. “Could you give me my hoard? I don’t want to be without it.”

“Just don’t lose anything.” And then there was a couple of harsh sounding swallows before their hoard, carefully collected into a pouch, fell beside them. “Are you settled?” He asked.

“Yes, sir.” They pulled the pouch close. “Where are we headed?”

“To the village, to the inn. They need confirm your demise, I need to be paid and also figure out what set the fires.”

“Oh, I could tell you who did it. It was the farmer who torched his field and killed a pig. Someone helped him.”

“Scoundrel. Setting me on an innocent baby’s tail.” He scoffed. “I rode out here to kill a beast that was ravaging a countryside, not a child pinching pennies out of the dirt.”

“Thank you.” Their voice was quiet. “For listening to me.”

“You’re welcome, little one, for telling me whom is responsible.”

Fruke snuggled the pouch to their chest and settled. All this excitement had exhausted them, so they shut their eyes.

The soft, hot stomach reminded them of being a little younger, snuggled up against the outside of their mama’s vulnerable stomach. She would softly sing and hug them close.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad in here.

—

Grommock kept one hand protectively against his middle as he mounted his rather large horse and started back towards the village.

The little thing had barely moved after settling down, and if he didn’t know any better, he would say that they’d fallen asleep inside of his stomach.

But that was ridiculous.

“Little one?”

He felt a paw gently push on his stomach from inside.

“I just realized we never properly met. What is your name? Mine is Sir Grommock Bonebreaker of Deule.”

After a long minute, he heard their quiet voice from under his armor and muscle. “Fruke.”

“Fruke?” He gently pressed his fingertips to the armor covering his stomach, heavy with the little dragon curled up inside. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Same here.” They shifted a little, and Grommock bit back a smile at someone so small curled up inside his stomach. “Your tummy is very nice. It’s warm… And soft.”

Grommock saw a carriage approaching on the road. He removed his hands and murmured to Fruke to stay still and be quiet.

The people aboard, a hunting party it seemed, waved him down.

“Did you slay the beast?” One asked, a bit too enthusiastically.

“Yes. And I’ve destroyed the remains.” It took much willpower to not draw any attention to his stomach. “It was quite small. But, even the small ones are a danger, yes?”

“They don’t stay small for long.” And the rest of the wagon agreed.

“Did it have a hoard?”

Grommock shook his head. “Not one that I could find.”

“Ah, well, the elder has your payment all put together for you back in the village…. If you don’t mind us asking, how’d you slay it?”

“I found it sleeping.” He glanced down at his hands. “Bashed its head against a rock and snapped its neck in my hands. Quite scrawny.”

They continued on and Grommock finally gently touched his stomach as he spurred his steed ahead.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” They moved a little. “You only said that so I wouldn’t be found, right?”

“Yes, little one. I would never have hurt you, I promise.” He softly patted his armor. “I will not allow anyone to hurt you. Anyone who tries shall have to cut me open.”

They snuggled against the walls of his stomach. “Thank you…. Thank you for protecting me.”

“All in a day’s work, Fruke.” He allowed himself the barest of smiles when their little weight settled in the pit of his stomach, filling his stomach up with warmth. “Rest easy now. It’ll be a little while before it’s safe to let you out.”

“Mkay.” He heard their yawn, and it was hard to sober up his look afterwards.


	2. The Most Dangerous Pet (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Soft vore, fatal vore, animal pred, animal prey, human prey, swearing. Mentions of weapons and cops, stealing. Unwilling prey.

John was a security guard working his first double shift at the zoo. He was the only human in the facilities. 

The night was pretty normal. Any alarms go off, he's to call police and file a report. 

But suddenly he heard noises in the deer enclosure. They were balking and running around and after a moment their chips stopped working. 

The cameras showed something huge moving in the enclosure. 

"Oh shit!" He sprung to his feet and rushed from the security office to the deer enclosure. 

He swiped the card and rushed inside, waving his flashlight around. 

What he saw was horrifying. A huge silver wolf was sitting around, licking its chops and showing off its stomach, huge and round and bulging like crazy. 

It ate the deer. All four of them.

It was the biggest thing he'd ever seen. It was as big, if not slightly bigger than, a polar bear. 

It noticed him and pounced. It had its huge paws on his chest and its stomach was pressing against his body.

It sniffed and snuffed at him, and then it tore the cap off his head, holding the hat between its teeth for a moment before swallowing it. 

"Don't eat me." He whimpered, eyes shut tight. 

It tilted its head, blue eyes staring, then it stood up, taking its paws off. Before John could run he was smothered by a thick, hot wall of fur.

High thrashed and wiggled and eventually freed his face. 

The damn thing was laying on him, causing him to scarcely be able to breathe. Its stomach was crushed between them, big and heavy and gurgling, packed heavily with meat. 

"Get off!" He shoved and pushed. "Stupid mutt!" 

He was licked.

Spit mixed with deer blood was left on his face. He shuddered as the wolf shifted, laying on his legs and dropped its head on his middle. It continued to lick at him until he was wet all over his head and shoulders. 

After it seemed to lick itself out, it passed out, crushing John under it.

He could scarcely breathe under the heavy head of the wolf, so there he lay, pinned under the gluttonous creature.

\---

After what must have been hours, John could free himself and he took off like a rocket into the night.

He didn't stop running until he was in his pickup and driving towards home as fast as legally possible. 

His heart still pounded as he thanked any and all deities he could think of. If he'd stayed much longer, he would have become wolf chow.

Its stomach had started to shrink, so the meal was digesting. Room for dessert in the shape of a security guard. 

He shook his head roughly and started rummaging for a soft, soothing CD. In for four beats, hold for seven beats, out for eight beats. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. In four, hold seven, out eight. 

John continued to adjust the rearview mirror to search for blue eyes in the darkness of the road behind him. His fingers clutched the wheel, shaking as he checked once more for the wolf, convinced he saw a shape move. 

The low fuel light dinged on and John pulled into a gas station off the road. 

The night was cool around him as he pumped the gas, hands unable to stay still. Months bumped into lights. It was quiet. Too quiet.

A shape moved and John stared intently into the bushes.

He was so busy looking for the wolf in the darkness he didn't see the thugs until he saw a knife. 

He dove to the side, throwing his wallet the other way and a loud snarl ripped through the night. 

There was a few screams, a bark, and very uncomfortable growling noises. After a second, John uncurled. 

There was the wolf, licking its chops, looking very pleased as it's stomach squirmed with still alive humans inside. 

It gathered something off the sidewalk and then dumped it into John's lap. A wallet. His wallet. As well as two others. 

"Where -" He flipped them open. One of the pictures on the license had the face of the man with the knife, now a fighting lump inside the wolf. 

It flopped down beside him, pushing its stomach to his side and whining. 

John slowly scooted away. 

The wolf pinned him down and pressed its swollen and stretched stomach to him. 

"What do you want from me?" 

A low whine.

"Please don't chew me up." He pressed a hand to the gut and rubbed. He had to swallow bile at the rapidly weakening struggling within.

It snuggled up to him, tail softly thumping against the pavement.

"You just wanted a belly rub?" John swallowed awkwardly. 

It licked him, gently. 

"Apparently." He continued to rub the thankfully now still stomach. 

Eventually, it closed its eyes. John got up and quietly got into his car. Just before he turned the key, the pickup truck creaked and he glanced into the back.

The wolf was snuggled under a tarp he had back there, tail wagging. 

"Shit.... I'm so going to get yelled at by my land lady." 

If this thing didn't swallow him first, that is. 

Soon, he was parked at his apartment and he had to smuggle the beast in through the elevator. 

He shut it in his bedroom and just tried to think of the fact that it has gobbled up four deer, and three people, all in the same night. 

It laid on its back and whined while showing its belly, still swollen, still bulging, but begging for belly rubs. 

Screw it. 

As he massaged its swollen belly, he tried to figure out how he was going to feed it. Meat wasn't cheap, and hundreds of pounds have digested in this thing in a single night. 

Soon, the wolf was asleep, taking up all the bed but the tiny bit John was curled up on. 

He placed his head on its stomach, arms around it, trying to ignore that it was people that were becoming soft in there, and went to sleep. 

He's deal with this in the morning.


End file.
